


Lockdown

by kriegersan



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal, F/M, Femdom, Hurt/Comfort, Pegging, mention of non-con, oddly serious fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:43:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kriegersan/pseuds/kriegersan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-rape revelation ass-fuck. Archer gets some "sexual healing" from his only real friend. Relatively non-funny, pretty filthy/dirty, how Archer deals with trauma. Takes place directly after "The Wind Cries Mary". Might be continued?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lockdown

“Lana I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

“So you just found out about your teenage-date-best-friend-butt-rape and that’s your go-to reaction.”

“Well, yeah, I’d like a positive memory in place of… that.”

"This isn't going to make it go away, you know."

"No shit, Lana, really?"

Lana pauses. Okay so it isn’t like she’s totally unwilling to give Archer what he wants – guys submitting is kind of her thing, actually – but she’d never have figured he would react like… that. Not that Archer hadn’t let her experiment with his asshole before (he literally squealed like a pig when she had wandered down there once while tonguing his balls), but getting fucked after Lucas Troy’s little confession was kind of, well, a stretch. 

(Phrasing.)

“Are you sure? I mean…”

“It’s not like your strap-ons and dildos have like… moved out or anything. They’re still hanging out under the bed.” Kinda weird that he kept him. “Stop looking at me like that. You… Lana.”

She flattens her mouth and stares at him as he stands up and lets the blue security blanket he’s been holding onto slide onto the floor. He starts unbuttoning his shirt. The scars she recognizes and the ones that she doesn’t become quickly apparent, her eyes trace their way down.

“Is this really happening?” She groans, can’t help but stare as his chest is revealed, shirt dropping to the ground.

This isn’t happening.

And then she finds herself (later, much later, a much less clothed and more naked with hard nipples later), her fingers down to the last knuckle in his asshole. 

Yeah this is really happening. He’s biting his hand face-first in the comforter, pushing back into her hands. They’re both completely naked, tangled up in a sweaty pile with a ping pong paddle strung among the dildos and buttplugs and anal beads and lube and condoms and whatever the fuck else found its way into his little den of inequity.

“God, Lana, more,” he moans, his elbows buckling, and she’s got to admit that there’s a lot of goddamn power seeing him wanton and begging at her hands. Probably not many people have seen him like this. There’s lube all over the backs of his upper thighs, and she’s got two-and-kind-of-a-half fingers in him, her ring finger teasing at the stretched rim of his hole. “You can definitely put more in, wow your hands are really big, I’m kind of maybe definitely a fan of this—gah, yeah, like that.”

She twists her wrist to get him to start panting, spreading her now two-and-a-half-actually three fingers in him, pressing up against his inner walls, stretching her fingers to find his prostate. Truckasaurus hands come in fucking handy sometimes, and maybe the mocking is worth it to hear his breath squeak out of his mouth, watch him tangle his hands in his admittedly very thick hair, arch his back and push his ass up. She spanks him hard, once, he jerks even further into her and Lana laughs as his body tries to find one way to go that doesn’t overload him with pleasure.

“Is this doing it for you, or do you want dick?” she asks him flatly, eyeing her assortment. Truthfully she’d only ever used them on the girls they’d occasionally bring home and tag team back when they were dating. They certainly did have a lot of fun in the bedroom. Cyril wasn’t nearly as adventurous, didn’t let her go near his asshole. Archer apparently didn’t have any inhibitions anymore. (Did he ever, though?)

He pants out a few more breaths while she gets more lube, wettens him up a bit more so she can fuck him steadily with her hand while he thinks. He meets her strokes every time, and she can’t help but wonder how much Ray would really enjoy seeing that Archer makes a great bottom. 

“Fuck it’s too intense right now, you, gah, you need to—” he mutters, and she rolls his eyes, going for the beads before he can get another word in. She switches her hand for the first two, popping them into his ass, watching that tiny hole stretch and swallow the balls while he squawks, slapping his butt again before pushing the rest of them in until all that’s left is the tiny little pull string. Archer the talking, vitriolic, self-loathing, alcoholic fuck puppet. Malory accessory included, distantly. 

“Keep those in for awhile, sparky. Get on your back.” 

Unsurprisingly he flips over, dick hard, wet at the tip and perky and all ready for her. His legs spread out a bit and she straddles his hips, letting his cock ride the crack of her ass as she perches on him. She wipes the leftover lube on his hairy upper thigh, and he kind of grimaces at her. Small sacrifices. 

“Not exactly what I was going for… but this works too,” he says as she reaches for a condom, rips it open and rolls it down his dick. It’s an old dance between them, doesn’t take much fumbling for him to get inside her pussy, and it isn’t like she isn’t already dripping wet for him. He bends his knees and pushes up into her a little bit, they sigh together, the feeling is kind of familiar and she can’t look at his face, instead bending down over him so that he can wrap his arms around her and fuck up hard into her, his breath rough and hurt in her ear. She pulls his hair and he bites her neck and she slaps him once to sit back up and ride him until he’s coming inside of her, panting and over-stimulated, choking out “Lana” until all he can do is breathe and scrabble at her glove-like hands for purchase.

She crawls off of him before he’s even done catching his breath, smacks his thigh a few times for good measure. “Noooope. We’re not done yet, cowboy. Move, get over, scooch.” Lana rolls him over onto his side, yanks the beads out of him while he’s still coming, gives him a second tinier orgasm. She smirks. It’s the little things. 

She straps on the harness while he’s still orgasm drunk, struggling to pull one of his knees up. Her dick is pretty big, black, a little squishy and imposing. She grabs the meat of his ass cheek, spreads him a bit and slides her index finger into his ass. Archer tenses a bit, going tight inside, so she wiggles her finger around a little bit. “If you’re gonna tense up, it’s gonna hurt. Stop being such a baby.”

“I’m not being a baby, just that thing is kinda… big. Can’t you use a slightly less big angry black one?”

“You’ll like it once it’s in there. Trust me.”

“Trust you.” He scoffs.

It takes a few tries to get her cock in. Archer doesn’t complain as much as she thought he would, but he’s tight and kind of tense, but she spanks him a few times as they go along and that seems to work, he listens better and relaxes. (She tries not to analyze it too much.)

She’s balls deep in him and he’s sweating and panting, and she lays down, spooning him, lying along his back. “We can take a minute,” she tells him, her hand sliding down his torso and they just stay like this for a second. It’s the first time they’ve really had this kind of conversation, the naked type (the emotionally naked, not the physically naked, but yeah… kinda that too), since the whole cancer thing and the Lana-I’m-in-love-with-you thing. 

“Now I know how Pam felt with those pool balls. Jesus Christ.”

Lana rolls her eyes (men are fucking babies, and ew, she didn’t need that mental image), lets her head down, her mouth resting at the nape of his neck. She gives him a minute to adjust. He just seems to be getting tenser, he’s fidgety, she asks him; “Are you all right?” 

“Not really.”

Not exactly the answer she expected. She didn’t not expect it either.

Then again, it’s probably the most honest thing he’s said to her, in a long time. 

_You’re probably my only friend Lana._

She shoves him between the shoulder blades and starts fucking his ass, slow, deep, forcing him to feel it in the hurt, fucked up places that he doesn’t like to acknowledge. He doesn’t moan, just takes shaky breaths with her thrusts, twists his head so his face is hidden in the blankets. He hides like this every time he fucks, can’t stare the anonymous girls he takes home in the face. Can’t hide the emptiness there.

Lana’s always got to him in ways that he doesn’t care to admit. They tangle across the bed, until she’s standing and he’s bent over it, getting fucking plowed into the mattress, jerking himself off in time with her, her sweat dripping off onto his neck. He comes again and she shoves him down, undoing the strap-on as he rolls to his back. 

She straddles his face, his hands pulling at her thighs, and he helps her come. She likes to call him selfish like all beleaguered ex-girlfriends do, but his tongue is all give right now his fingers sliding into her pussy and teasing her inner labia. Lana shakes above him and falls to pieces again with him and it’s not like she’s ever been able to find all of them anyway – some got lost under the proverbial couch, and they turn up sometimes when he looks at her a certain nostalgic way. 

She wakes up the next morning with him clear across the bed, limbs strung out every which way. He sleeps with the abandon of a child, the recklessness of someone who isn’t used to sharing a bed, or sharing anything with anyone for that matter. It’s not like he’s really ever had anyone to share with.

She leaves before Archer can wake up. There’s a note on his bedside table. 

_If you ever need to “talk” again, let me know. We’re friends._

_Shitass._

_\- Lana_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little rusty, this is my first fic/writing/sex scene in a few years. Not 100% sure about the characterization, as it's definitely... darker than the show likes to go, but let me know what you think. Un-betaed.
> 
> xoxo


End file.
